


Date Night: Hiding in Plain Sight

by angelinthecity



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mild Smut, Toronto International Film Festival, date night challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 07:48:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15944945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelinthecity/pseuds/angelinthecity
Summary: Armie and Timmy decide to toe the line with their Instagram stories from the Toronto International Film Festival.My quick contribution to the Date Night CMBYN Writing Challenge.





	Date Night: Hiding in Plain Sight

**Author's Note:**

> Fiction fiction fiction, as always.

Armie stands at the bar at the Thompson hotel in downtown Toronto, waiting for the bartender to finish making his drink. The celebrities and other party guests are buzzing around him, but he really only has eyes for one, now that he’s finally gotten him back from Europe. They have had their own promotional responsibilities to take care of during the days at the film festival, but have tried to coordinate the evenings so that they’ll hit the same parties at the same time. Now Timmy sits at their table across the room, lost in his thoughts, and on the spur of the moment Armie decides to take a picture of him.

No, he’ll take a video instead, it’ll feel more real when he’s looking at it afterwards.

For a long time Timmy seems oblivious to the fact that he’s being filmed and Armie likes that. Likes seeing him just as himself, without any posing for pictures, without anyone else commanding his attention. Then he notices Armie and looks at him like asking _what’s with the phone, man?_ Armie will think of an explanation later.

”Here you go,” the bartender says and pushes Armie’s shot glass over the bar.

Armie thanks him and downs the shot in one gulp, leaving the empty glass on the bar. He heads back to their table weaving between people and then sees Timmy filming him as he gets closer and breaks into a smile.

”Come on, what are you doing?” he nods towards Timmy’s rose gold iPhone. He can make out the notes of Lady, Lady, Lady coming from the phone.

”What, you were filming me too!”

Armie shakes his head and grins. ”You know, the press has been asking me about you ever since I got here, so they would’ve had a field day with that. These people are clearly not letting go of Call Me By Your Name.”

”I know, I have been signing the novel a million times since Wednesday, which is great, but it feels funny that everyone’s like expecting this great reunion from us or something. As if we didn’t keep in touch.”

”I always tell people that we do, but it’s like they don’t believe me because the questions just keep coming.”

Timmy laughs. ”Maybe we have to put out an official statement that we’re still friends.”

”Well, we can always post something together, that usually helps for a while.”

”Um, I’m in no condition to take pics now, I’ve had way too many of these,” Timmy tilts his drink glass.

”No, but like separately, even. Just something.”

”Related to Call Me By Your Name, you mean?”

”Yeah, or us. Or whatever you want.”

Timmy thinks for a second. ”Umm, okay, I guess, sure. So we each make a post and publish at the same time?”

They scroll through their phones for a couple of minutes, until Armie asks if they are both ready.

”I think so.”

”One, two, th-”

”No, wait, do we press the post button _on_ three or _after_ three?” Timmy interrupts.

”I doesn’t matter anymore, because I just did it.”

”Fuck. Okay. Yeah, it just popped up here on my–... Wha-what the hell is this, Armie?” Timmy sees himself sitting at the table earlier, blurry, and further blurred by dozens of pink hearts flying across the screen. This clearly has to be a joke, but why isn’t Armie laughing? He only smiles at Timmy, contented, shrugging.

”Let’s give the people what they want. Everyone loves Timmy Chalamet, right?”

Armie thinks how easy it is to hide in plain sight, really.

Timmy had planned to post a photo of a peach someone had given to him after a panel earlier that day, but that’s no match to the post Armie had just made. So he quickly scrolls through his camera roll again, and chooses the video of Armie walking towards him with Lady, Lady, Lady playing in the background. He had planned to keep it just for himself, and feels like they are both probably toeing the line here, but he decides not to care for once. He clips the video to a respectable length – no one needs to know how long he actually filmed Armie just walking – and hits post.

”Okay, mine’s now up, too.”

Timmy watches closely as Armie checks his phone. They exchange a look that speaks volumes and they hope no one notices.

”Brings me right back,” Armie notes, clearing his throat.

”I still get like this instant lump in my throat whenever I hear it, almost smelling the cigarette smoke and feeling like Elio that I’ll never be able to have you.”

Armie leans in close enough that even though he has to raise his voice amidst the loud chatter, no one else will be able to make out what he says.

”You know you never have to feel that way again, right?”

Timmy flashes him a smile and a look that brushes fleetingly over Armie’s lips before meeting his eyes for as long as they think is appropriate in a public place.

Armie reaches for the water bottle on the table and pours some in his glass. He fills Timmy’s glass as well, as it looks like he needs it. After all, this is only the first party of the evening and they can’t afford to slip up.

 

 

The rest of the evening is a busy and loud blur. It’s only the start of the festival and promo season, so the new films are still fresh and everyone is excited to talk to everyone. They leave and go to the next party with their respective teams, always separately, as the scene of fans around Timmy is frenzied enough as it is. Timmy feels Armie’s hand pressing on his back occasionally when they talk to people. Sometimes it is to get him to step away from someone’s path when people pass behind them in the crowd, but more often for no particular reason. They leave the last party at a reasonable hour, Armie a little earlier as everyone knows he has an early flight back to New York. But Timmy has barely gotten back to his hotel room, when the screen of his phone lights up with a text.

” _Are you still up?”_

” _Sure. Only just got here. 1409_ ”

” _I’ll be there in five_.”

 

 

Three minutes later, Armie knocks on Timmy’s door, wearing the pants from earlier but the tuxedo jacket is gone and the sleeves of his white shirt have been pushed up. His hair looks like it has been raked through with nervous fingers. He tries to make small talk as he paces the room, and Timmy sits on the bed watching him, amused. It’s been a long time, but they both know why he’s here.

And then he comes over and pulls Timmy up from the bed, only to carry him back to it a few minutes later. But not before he has pushed his fingers slowly into Timmy’s hair, raking through it all the way to the nape of his neck and holding him in place when he brushes his lips against Timmy’s. Timmy opens his mouth and they breathe each other in before Timmy can’t take it any longer and kisses him with the longing of six months apart. It starts out slow and deep but gets more urgent quickly, and Armie has to be the one to break them apart to get some air, because Timmy would gladly drown himself in him.

”Jesus I’ve missed this,” he mumbles against Timmy’s throat before licking and biting down his neck. Now there’s so much more of it ready for him, without having to push the long curls aside first.

And that’s the last of their talking because their mouths have better things to do. As the last pieces of their clothing join the dress shirts and velvet jackets on the floor and skin meets endless skin, it’s like they never left Austin. Or Paris. Or Crema.

 

 

When Timmy wakes up, Armie’s side of the bed is empty. When he reaches for his phone on the nightstand, he notices a note next to it, written on the hotel note pad in perfect cursive.

” _Did you say you were coming to California for the Mill Valley festival?”_

**Author's Note:**

> Would love to hear what you think, and I'm also on tumblr: [angel-in-new-york-city](http://angel-in-new-york-city.tumblr.com)


End file.
